


Black-Winged Man

by potentialfordisaster



Series: Batman AU [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Batman AU, Batman!Chris, Catwoman!Tom, Gotham City - Freeform, M/M, Tom is a Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentialfordisaster/pseuds/potentialfordisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris dangles a thin line between his two identities: of lonely billionaire and of night-time hero. But there's no denying his life would be way easier if a certain man with feline antics hadn't crossed ways with him. And damn, why did he need such a sexy outfit?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black-Winged Man

**Author's Note:**

> Title is soooo dull, sorry. Another fic supposed to be a ficlet but well...
> 
> I don't know much about the Batman universe, but I have no intention of making this one hundred percent accurate to the comics/movies/whatever's history. Let's part from the principle that Chris is Bruce Wayne though he keeps his real name, that he looks very hot in that bat outfit and can't stand the sexual tension between him and the catlike, leather-covered man who sometimes appears to interrupt his rescue of Gotham City. Which means Tom in the catwoman outfit. God, I'm a troubled mind.

\---- 

 

Chris walked up the front steps to his mansion with the strict posture required of the heir to the Hemsworth Enterprises. On the inside, though, his heart pumped blood in a slightly hurried fashion. The only sign of his unusual agitation was the right hand he used to tug on his tie, wanting nothing more than to escape its confines and the suit that dictated the behaviour of a clear-minded, young billionaire out of him. 

Alfred opened the front door before Chris had reached the top step, bowing respectfully and widening the door's passage, hands folded as he waited and stood to the side. 

"Good night, sir." Alfred greeted, smiling as he was wont to do, both hands reaching for Chris' coat and suitcase. 

"Good night, Alfred." Chris replied, and he was sure Alfred felt the tension on his shoulders when he retrieved his coat. He mumbled a low thank you to his butler and old friend, sighing as Alfred closed the door and hung his coat. 

Inside, his house shone like an earring, the crystal chandelier hanging over their heads, the golden balustrade curling to the side, the hand-woven, terribly expensive tapestries softening the steps of his equally expensive and glistening shoes. Chris wished his parents could see him now, resisting the pang in his chest that usually accompanied any thought involving his once kind father and affectionate mother, long gone now. 

Chris had more urgent, pressing matters to attend to tonight though, and hurried to take off his cufflinks, Alfred helping him along the process, speaking slowly in his usual steady voice. "Dinner is ready, sir, and about to be served at your command. The cellar was repaired today; is there any drink you'd like accompanied to your meal?" 

Chris shook his head, "Thank you, Alfred, but I think I'll skip dinner tonight." 

"Very well, sir." His butler replied, stepping back, not surprised with his words. "But I must warn you, sir, if you'll forgive me saying," he continued, smiling knowingly, gaze flashing with intelligence. "That eating serves to boost one's energy." 

Chris unbuttoned his jacket, turning on his heels to give Alfred a genuine, amused smile. "I'll take your warning into consideration, Alfred. Thank you." 

Alfred nodded once, watching as Chris made his way towards the basement with a sapient smile on his face. 

 

~*~ 

 

Once inside his outfit, Chris hurries and puts on his mask, hopping on the black motorcycle Fox had so thoughtfully designed for him. Revving the engine, Chris edges forward, the underground gates sliding to allow him passage. 

He breaks the wind smoothly, the motorcycle rumbling beneath him. The bat-shaped beacon was still up in the sky, glowing yellow and flickering with urgency. Chris grins, and speeds up. 

 

~*~ 

 

He finds the place easily, surprised to see the emergency is at Gotham's Central Bank. The tall building is surrounded by police cars, its sirens rotating and screeching loudly. Chris approaches through the back, the population still insecure about his role of villain or hero and the police all too willing to shoot him down. 

All police officers stand outside, hands on their hips, eyes on the last floor of the building. Crouched down in the alley across the street, Chris wonders why they do nothing, but when he squints and eyes the glass doors of the bank he understands what is going on. The whole building is screeching with security alarms, lights flashing red inside and reflecting on every surface. The doors are visibly locked from the inside and Chris frowns. 

To have the security alarms ringing meant the building's security system had been activated by an illegal or unpermitted access. The conclusion Chris could come to was that someone had broken in the building to rob it, but the locked doors signaled the bank's system was being controlled from the inside to keep the police from entering the building. 

A very unintelligent officer shoots against the glass doors, and Chris feels the need to roll his eyes. The bulletproof glass repels the shot, the smashed butt of the bullet falling with a clink to the ground, leaving only a round shape of broken glass next to its many other failed attempts. The police is clearly at a loss on what to do, officers only screaming into tiny radios and calling for reinforcements. Their best option is to call for a helicopter to land on the roof but Chris can imagine the door to the heliport would be locked too. 

Not wasting another second, Chris hurries to the building, unseen by the stray officers as he ducks to the back. He shoots a string up to the roof but it's much too high, the metal claws landing on the crook of a high window. Chris tests the balance and begins his ascent, arms working to hike him up, feet carrying him up the wall. 

He comes face to face with the window, rolling his body forward and crashing through the glass, landing with a roll inside a well-furnished room, glass shards littering the floor around him. Sighing, Chris stands up, rolling his neck with a crack as he finds the door unlocked, stepping into a narrow and long hallway. 

It seems the invader still hasn't noticed his presence in the building and Chris scurries towards the emergency stairs. Red lights flash everywhere but thankfully the stairs are illuminated and Chris climbs up three steps at a time. 

He covers four floors before he hears voices above him, and Chris grins. Men dressed in black hurry down the steps to meet him, eyes going round. "It's the Batman!" One yells and Chris knocks his elbow against his jaw before he can get a response from his companions. The man falls to the side and another approaches, raising his gun to him before Chris smacks it away, one arm in the handrail as he swings his body up the steps and kicks the man in the face. 

Chris rushes past the floor's door, shouts still echoing inside the emergency stairs as he turns and locks the door with a heavy desk. He takes a look around and finds himself in an ample office, cubicles glued together. 

If whoever is doing this is smart enough then Chris believes the elevators are also a bad choice, but still Chris moved to the metal doors, hearing shots and punches being thrown against the emergency exit he had blocked. 

The elevator pings when arriving at his floor and Chris smirks, shaking his head. He enters the metal box but immediately presses the halt button, the lift clanging in place as Chris supports himself on the metal walls and kicks the maintenance exit at the ceiling. The lid falls to the side and Chris peers into the black hollow above. He climbs up easily, feet landing above the elevator, the metal box swaying slightly and creaking. 

Chris climbs the metal ropes, the tunnel dark and suffocating. He can see the last pair of doors at a distance, and reaches for his utility belt, throwing a small device that glues itself to the metal doors, a red light blinking gradually before the explosion comes, Chris ducking his face and shielding his head with an arm. 

Chris coughs among the lingering debris, grimacing as he swings his body into the opening and lands on a knee inside the last floor. 

It's occupied by a single room, the president's, probably, and under the sweat plastering his mask to his forehead, Chris takes a quick look around. The lights are on, and an eerie silence is present. Chris stands and walks carefully on the tiled floor though the scrape of his shoes makes no sound. From this height he can still see the faint reflections of the red lights and the blue police sirens through the window. 

There's a wide mahogany desk at the end of the room, a computer monitor turned on, its light illuminating the empty seat behind and Chris' mind beeps in alarm for if the seat is unoccupied then... But before he can do much the side of a high heel clashes against his head, sending him to the floor. 

Chris groans, splaying his hands on the floor to jump up but then a kick comes to his ribs, powerful, and Chris rolls to the side, his head being smashed against the tiled floor as the person steps on his skull with that piercing heel and Chris grimaces in pain. 

"My, my..." Says a sleek, smooth and sensual voice from behind him. The foot tips Chris' head to the side, a mock surprised gasp falling out of the person's lips as he sees Chris' mask. "Look what the cat dragged in." He continues, a silky giggle following. 

Chris grits his teeth, but he feels the unquenchable urge to smile. His heart thumps against his chest. He had a suspicion this little minx was behind all of this. 

Quickly, Chris swings his arm back and grips the thin, leather-covered ankle above his head. There's a gasp and then Chris throws him off his back and sends him off, getting to his feet in a jump and turning to find him at the corner of the room, squatting in a feline pose, a long, long leg splayed to the side. He glares at Chris, blue eyes flashing, and Chris is glad to see he looks as alluring as always. He's dressed in his usual skinny black leather outfit, the one Chris finds so indecent if it also wasn't terribly hot. Chris can see the perfect outline of his body in it, the long angles of his legs, the supple and pointy curve of his ass, the flat plane of his thin belly and his small waist. He has a small black mask around his eyes, strangely deceptive of his true face, but matching the angle of his jaw and his pair of thin rosy lips. Amidst his crown of blond curls, twin sets of black cat ears rest and Chris couldn't remember the first time he had seen him, he only had always known himself a little infatuated with the cat-like man. 

Their eyelock is broken when the computer beeps above the table, their eyes immediately flying to it. Chris surges forward but the cat has always been more agile than him, scooting to the seat and even sending his heel on Chris' cheekbone for his trouble. Groaning, Chris steps back, a hand on his cheek as he looks back up at the man, his face glowing under the monitor's light as his fingers travel quickly on the keyboard. 

Thinking quickly, Chris reaches for the cables keeping the computer on, but he screams when a sharp-pointed dagger scrapes his gloved hand, tearing the leather material and opening a thin slit on the upper part of his hand. Grunting, Chris tries again, gripping the cable before the man does a cartwheel over the table, his legs circling Chris' waist snugly and Chris halts when they come face to face, the light weight of him hanging on his waist, the cradle of his hips resting against Chris' belly and he is strangely warm between his legs. 

He looks gorgeous up close too, playful smile on before he sighs and rolls his eyes. "You're terribly inconvenient, do you know that?" 

"Really?" Chris asks, smirking. "I had a feeling you liked my visits." 

He laughs, white teeth glinting before the humor dies and he elbows Chris in the face, dropping them both to the floor. Chris swings a fist at his face, regretting it later when he lets out a hurt mewl and jumps away. Not losing any time, Chris grabs the computer monitor. He was transferring the bank's money to an account, the computer spelling 57% of the process completed. 

Glass shards flew everywhere when he returned to knock a vase against Chris' head, Chris falling on his back on the floor. God, he had some fight in him. Blinking blearily, Chris groaned, seeing his lovely face peeking down at him as he came to crouch beside Chris' form. 

"What do you need all that money for?" Chris asks, trying to distract him with idle conversation while regains his forces back. 

He shrugs, smiling cheekily down at him. His bottom lip was split, a big dot of blood on it. He probably noticed Chris staring because he pressed a finger above it, frowning and giving Chris a nasty look when he saw blood. 

"You don't like money," Chris continued, and the cat lifted an eyebrow. "You prefer jewels." 

He giggled, falsely sweet. "That's true. Did you bring me any?" He teases, scurrying a hand down Chris' sides as if feeling for anything, but his smirk was deceptively teasing and Chris knew he was only feeling his body up, hands straying slowly to Chris' hip and making him tense up. "Oh," he moans, and a spike lances up Chris' spine at the sound and god, he could feel his cheeks warming, glad for his mask when those slim hands cupped Chris' manhood shamelessly. "Hmm, I like these jewels too." He murmured, looking intently down at Chris and swiping his pretty tongue on his bottom lip. 

Smirking slowly, Chris inched his fingers closer to the cable, distracting him with his flirty interest. 

"Oh?" The cat gasped, tugging painfully on his manhood and Chris grimaced, reaching his arm out to tug the cables off. The cat-like man's face fell in slow motion when he saw Chris' hand, jumping over him to stop him, yelling "No!" but it was too late and Chris pulled with all his force, the cables disconnecting and the computer shutting down. He had no idea if he had interrupted the process in time but if the man's slack and shocked face was anything to go by, Chris had succeeded. 

"You bastard!" He screeches, still slumped over Chris, his thigh landing on Chris' neck and he pushes down, almost suffocating him with his thigh muscles but Chris pushes him off his body hurriedly. He lands in a heap on the floor, coiling around himself with a snarl and a mewl. 

Chris regains his breath and stands up, and there is a loud sound down the street when the police finds the doors are now unlocked. Chris cuts his gaze to the man, who jumps to his feet in all feline grace, pausing to give Chris the tongue before he hurries to a door at the corner Chris hadn't noticed before, heels clicking. 

Huffing, Chris runs after him, finding the door hid a small flight of stairs leading to the cement roof, where the wind howls and billows his cape. Chris pauses in the centre, looking from side to side but finding no glimpse of him. 

The night sky is black and the police screams downstairs. The building was much too tall for him to jump without dying a terrible death, even with all his cat grace. 

Chris walks closer to the edge, inching his head down to see if he had somehow managed to land on the floor unscathed when he comes face to face with him, poised in his usual feline position and dangling vertically from the first window on the wall. 

"Boo," he makes, lowly, and Chris almost falls back in his surprise but the man's quick with his legs, jumping towards him, securing his arms around Chris' waist and pulling them both down the building. 

"No!" Chris yells, but they're already falling. 

Chris widens one arm, his cape flowing like an one-winged bat, his other arm around the cat's waist to keep him from falling. 

"Let go!" He screams in Chris' ear, and Chris does that, widening his arms and letting his billowing cape serve them as wings, turning their fall into a flight, the cat-like man securing himself around Chris' waist. 

They land ungracefully, though, for Chris' cape wasn't made to support a two bodies' weight. The cat rolls away, high heels clicking on the floor as flicks invisible dust off his outfit and pouts miserably, looking back at Chris, who is breathing quickly while lying on his back. 

"Why did you do that?" Chris screams to him. He could've killed both of them! 

He mewls, standing up and walking towards Chris, hips swinging and Chris can't disconnect his gaze from his legs. "Relax, little bat. I needed to get down here, so I had to borrow your wings." 

He comes to a halt right next to Chris' face, his high heel looking lethal as he squats beside Chris' head, blinking mock innocently before coming closer. "My hero," he whispers, blowing hot breath on Chris' ear, giggling sweetly when he groans. 

Chris licks his lips, thinking twice before pushing his luck and going for it. "Don't I get anything for saving your life?" 

The cat-like man raises an eyebrow. 

Perhaps he would grant Chris a kiss as a reward. And indeed he smiles amenably, purring so deliciously while he bends closer and closer, his hot breath fanning Chris' face. Chris feels like smiling in bliss but suddenly the man's face falls and he knees Chris in the groin, working a zip from around his hip and wrapping Chris' legs and when Chris realizes what he was doing it is already too late. The string zipped and involved his whole body, leaving him motionless on the floor, fighting to release himself as the man got to his feet and smiled sinfully. 

"You ruin my plans and asks for a gift?" He shakes his head, tutting and swinging a finger playfully above Chris' face. "Bad little bat," he teases, dabbing his finger on Chris' nose before he stands up, heels clicking as he turns and gasps, eyes landing on Chris' motorcycle, resting against the wall where Chris had left it at the back of the building when arriving. 

"Is that yours, little bat?" He asks, purring as he makes his way towards it. 

"Yes, it only works with me, hey! Get out of there!" Chris screams, but he watches as the cat hoists one leg above the seat of his motorcycle, taking his seat on it and mewling happily, turning back to look at Chris with a gaping mouth. He reaches for the handle, the engine coming to life under him and he mewls again, his slim body poised above it, stretching to take hold of the handle. 

It is a sight to Chris, extremely hot to see him all stretched above his vehicle, ass poking on his seat. But then Chris remembered he was stealing it and he groaned. 

"Would you mind-" the cat man said, his voice dropping honey-like. He caught Chris' eyes on his body and slid his hips slowly over the seat, smirking when Chris tensed. "If I went for a ride?" He completed, lifting an eyebrow and laughing, the engine rumbling as he turned the handle. 

Chris could only groan as the cat-like man blew him a kiss, speeding away and into the street with his motorcycle. Letting his head fall on the concrete, Chris sighed, trying to squirm and reach for his phone and call Alfred. 

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and sorry for anything!


End file.
